The 'Borgo Marinaro' (Fishermen's District) is a residential complex not so far from my home. Three decades ago, its colorful buildings replaced an old cement factory abandoned since the 60s. Despite its name, a 5-storey buildings project, in a seaside city, laid itself open to urban speculation, rather than to the nostalgic carousel of an ancient fishermen’s village. Despite the colorful look, its square has not become a vibrant, beating heart, but a merely passing place, crossed by anonimous passers-by, like ghosts walking in an enchanted land, to reach the city center and recover their identity.